


No Home But Here

by borrowedphrases



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keith Week 2016, M/M, Mid-Canon, Minor Hunk/Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/pseuds/borrowedphrases
Summary: Keith doesn't miss Earth, he has everything he cares about with him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For [keith-week](http://keith-week.tumblr.com/) Day 6: Space/Stars
> 
> And one more from Anime Weekend Atlanta! Tomorrow's will be late by a day, since I'll be without internet until we get home early Monday morning.

"I miss the ocean." Lance says as he stretches one long leg out across the expanse of floor circled by the common room's sofa, the other he bends at the knee, foot resting up on the couch. Keith wonders why Lance seems to have no respect for furniture. "The sun on my back, the salt in the air, riding waves on more board."

"Wiping out on your board, you mean." Hunk says with a smirk, his words followed by a yelp as Lance smacks his shoulder. He laughs, rubbing at his wounded arm and offering Lance a smirk. "It's true, man."

"I miss peas." Pidge chimes in. She's perched on the floor near the opening of the couch, resting back against it, her fingers typing away at her laptop even as she participates in the conversation. 

"You miss _what_?" Lance gives her a head tilt so sharp it looks like his neck might snap.

"Peas. They're a vegetable. I'm sure you've never tried them." She doesn't even bother looking up at Lance. Keith doesn't bother trying to hide his smirk.

"I know what peas are!" Lance shakes his head. "I'm just... out of all the food on Earth - nachos, pizza, mac and cheese, ice cream - you miss _peas_?"

"Yup." Pidge adjusts her glasses, still not looking away from her computer. "I miss peas."

"I miss movies." Hunk says with a wistful sigh, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms behind his head. "Every Sunday the local theater back home with have an old classics matinee double feature. I used to go down there every week and watch all kinds of movies no one else my age had ever even heard of. Monster movies, old sci fi, book and comic adaptations. Didn't matter what was playing really, I'd grab a jumbo tub of popcorn and a soda then sit there with my eyes glued to the screen for both flicks."

Shiro gives a soft hum from beside Keith, nodding slowly over Hunk's reminiscing. Keith remembers Shiro's love of old - _really_ old - movies, many of them not even in color. He's shared quite a few of them with him, though Keith rarely paid attention to the screen during those dates, not with someone so distracting with him.

"I miss my books." Shiro adds, his voice soft, and a little sad. "Not datanovels, I mean like physical books. Antique paper ones, I had a good bit of my collection with me at the Garrison, though I'm sure that's been cleaned out by now, maybe sent back to my moms. There was nothing quite like the smell of an old book, feeling the texture of the pages, the way the spine creased, the softness of ink sunk into paper."

"I had a few of them." Keith adds very softly, then feels awkward as everyone looks at him. "Your books. I took some of them with me when I left the Garrison."

"My oldest sister had a collection of old paper comics, some of them were worth a fortune." Lance crosses his arms over his chest, then flops over, leaning against Hunk's side. "I miss the weekly updates to the comics I used to follow coming in on my datatab, rushing to my dorm after class to read them day of. Tossing theories around with my boy Hunk here about what was gonna come next."

Hunk runs his fingers through Lance's hair, smiling at the memories. After a few moments of quiet Hunk sighs, tipping his head back and looking up at the ceiling. "I miss my dad. I miss getting a call from him every friday just so we could catch up on what we'd both been doing all week."

Keith shifts where he's sitting, his hands, resting in his lap, grip tight at his thighs. There's a strange tension forming in his chest, like the very early stages of panic. It doesn't quite feel like panic though, it's more aggressive, more controllable, even if he can seem to make it dissipate.

"I miss my mom." Lance has turned, now half speaking into Hunk's belly. He sniffles once, and exhales like his entire body is deflating. "I miss her hugs, her kisses to my cheeks, I even miss when she'd grab me by the ear and drag me away from my video games to make me do my chores or help her with dinner."

"I miss your mom too." Hunk smiles, then sighs heavily. "She always had cookies made when I came over."

Keith rises from the couch before he can even reflect on the action, standing stiff and rigid, his hands balled at his sides. He hovers there for a brief moment, then mutters something about needing to go train as he turns and quickly leaves the common room. He doesn't look back to see if anyone watches him leave.

At first he's fully intent on heading for the training deck, his footsteps leading him there from muscle memory, not even having to think about which direction to go in the massive castle. Maybe going a few rounds with the Gladiator would clean his head a little, maybe ease the tension still winding tighter and tighter inside his chest. He rubs at his breastbone through his shirt, his breathing becoming more shallow now, and steadily getting worse.

When he realizes he's on the edge of hyperventilating, he slows his steps, veering off toward the wall. His fingers glide along the smooth metal surface, until they fall upon glass, or something close enough to glass to be clear, if not remotely as fragile. He stops at the window, fingertips pressed against the pane. It's cool to the touch, not the comfortable room temperature the walls seemed to be kept at. The chill of space still leaches into the not-glass, though not enough to hurt or affect the controlled climate.

Keith's face feels flushed, and so he leans forward, pressing his forehead to the window, and looks past his translucent reflection to the stars outside. Their configuration is nothing like that of the night sky that loomed over his cabin in the desert, the one he'd spend every evening gazing up at from his porch. Space had felt so hollow to him there, massive and expansive and deadly. A cruel thing that had taken the one thing that Keith cared about away from him. 

"Keth?" Shiro's voice calls gently down the hall, and Keith sighs, his breath fogging briefly against the window. He doesn't say anything back, but he doesn't turn to leave either. He's too unsure of his legs right now, too scrunched up trying to get his chest to unwind.

A warm hand settles down onto his shoulder, but doesn't trying to guide him away from the window. Keith closes his eyes when Shiro speaks again, his voice private, too soft to carry if anyone else is nearby to hear. "You seemed distressed when you left."

"Yeah." Keith pushes himself off the window, turning where he stands, and then leans his back against the pane, his arms crossed tight over his chest. "I don't know how to explain it."

Shiro draws his hand back when Keith turns, and moves to lean back against the wall beside him, arms mirroring Keith's, though his posture is considerably more relaxed. "Was it talking about family?"

"I guess?" Keith can't keep the frustrated growl out of his voice. He's not frustrated with Shiro, and his tone isn't really fair to him. Shiro is just concerned, trying to help, worried about him. "I wasn't very comfortable before that though."

Shiro nods thoughtfully. He's not staring at Keith, and Keith is grateful for that. He feels most comfortable around Shiro, but he still doesn't like being scrutinized. They're shoulders are almost touching, and part of Keith wants that contact, wants to feel Shiro's strength against him, maybe it could help ease his tension, like a heat pack over a sore muscle. 

As if reading Keith's thoughts, Shiro shifts slightly closer, until their arms are pressing together. Keith sighs, shaky and still so very on edge, but he manages to force himself to rest his head on Shiro's shoulder, greedily drawing comfort from him, hoping it will help.

The ship hums softly in the silence between them, something you can only really hear when it's this quiet, when there aren't a bunch of bodies crowding around, no computers whirring and fingers tapping at keys. It's almost like the castle's heartbeat, though it's a constant hum, not rhythm. Keith likes the sound, it helps him sleep sometimes when he's alone in his room, or helps him get his thoughts in order when he's all jumbled up inside. 

Keith turns again, this time so he's facing Shiro, leaning his shoulder against the cool window. He thumps the side of his head softly against it, glancing sidelong out at the stars.

"I don't miss Earth." Keith admits as soon as he's sorted it out for himself, there's no point keeping it from Shiro. They don't share every little thing with each other, and even keep some major things secret - they both know this, they both accept this - but this he feels like he can share.

"Nothing?" Shiro asks softly, glancing down at Keith, his expression only curiously raised eyebrows, no judgement nor frown.

"There wasn't anything for me there." Keith lets out a shuddery breath, watching it leave a light trail across the window. He uncrosses his arms, and reaches to touch the tips of his fingers against the pane again. He wants to count stars, wants to try and figure out which distant flicker is actually a planet, which ones are stars that have long since died, their light just an echo from their long life extended out across the universe, which ones might actually be far away galaxies, which one holds the Sol System, which one holds Earth. "Not after you left, after they reported you dead."

Keith glances at Shiro just long enough to see a flicker of pain cross Shiro's face, his eyebrows knitting together and his lips parting slightly like he's fighting to say something, or fighting against saying something. The moment passes very quickly, and then Shiro is all gentle curiosity and careful concern again.

"I never had a family." Keith sighs, rolling his eyes at himself. Like he's some sob story, the unloved orphan, or a cautionary tale, the one who bounced around the system until it spit him out. He didn't have a bad childhood at the group home. The nuns were nice enough to him, made sure he was clothed and fed and schooled. Sure, no one ever adopted him, but he wasn't the only one passed over, there were lots of kids that spent their entire childhood at the home, that didn't leave until they hit adulthood. The nuns helped him apply to the Garrison, Sister Margaret even still sent him cards for Christmas and Easter while he was a student ther. But that wasn't a family, that wasn't parents making cooking or giving hugs and making phone calls. It wasn't siblings collecting comics or setting examples for him to follow.

Shiro lifts one hand briefly, like he wants to reach out to touch Keith, but thinks better of it. Keith has an idea of what's going through Shiro's head. He wants to comfort him, wants to be supportive, but he also doesn't want to appear patronizing, doesn't want to frustrate Keith further. Keith appreciates both. He appreciates Shiro.

"I had you." He adds, even more quietly, looking back out the window. "You made the Garrison a home for me. And then you were taken away from me, and I somehow had even _less_ than I had before I had you.

"I don't miss the food, because I didn't eat much of anything special in the desert, and the Garrison food wasn't memorable either." Keith tries to keep breathing evenly, even though he can feel the tension mounting inside him again. "I don't miss hot sand and freezing nights, days and days without rain, or the riverbed flooding when it finally did. I don't miss the sounds of other students snoring in their dorms, or my roommates talking in their sleep."

Keith closes his eyes, his fingers trembling against the window. He presses his palm flush against it to try and get the shaking to stop. He feels so tired, worn out and weary and oddly sad. 

He feels lonely.

"You're my family. You, and Hunk and Pidge, Allura and Coran, hell, even Lance is my family now." Keith feels prickling at the corners of his eyes, like he's about to start crying, though his eyes are dry. "This place is my home, out here in space, this castle in the stars."

Keith's whole body starts to shake, and that's when Shiro's arms slide around him, drawing him away from the cold window and in against his warm chest. He holds Keith close, like he's trying to cover all of him, shelter him, keep him safe. One of his palms rubs slowly up and down Keith's back, the other glides through his hair, paying special attention to the nape of his neck. 

"You know," Shiro's voice is soft, and a bit gravelly, like he's fighting his own emotions down, like he's on the edge of crying. "It makes more sense now why you flipped out at Pidge when she wanted to leave."

Keith clings to Shiro, nodding against his chest. Not wanting to talk anymore. He's said so much already, too much, and he doesn't really feel any better for it.

"You have a family now." Shiro shifts slightly, resting his cheek on the top of Keith's head. "And you're scared of losing them, scared of them leaving you."

Keith just nods again, weaker this time, not wanting to admit to what Shiro's saying, but he does anyway. He's already vulnerable, might as well make himself pathetic, right?

"When I was piloting to Kerberos," Shiro clears his throat, but a little too late, Keith heard the edge of pain in his voice, the regret and the guilt he still carries over not being able to protect, and later save, his crew mates. "During the months long trip we had a lot of down time, and the three of us would sit around talking a lot like was just going on with the others.

"We'd talk about what we missed back on Earth. The people, the places, the food, the weather. In amongst my books and my moms' shepherd's pie and the first snowfall each year, do you know what I always said I missed most?" Shiro pulls back slightly, his arms still wrapped protectively around Keith, but trying to meet his gaze.

Keith glances up, his eyes bloodshot, but still dry. He shakes his head, trying not to frown too deeply, trying to look curious and attentive. He's not sure if he's successful, but Shiro continues anyway. 

"You." Shiro smiles, a bit of heat spreading out across the bridge of his nose, around the scar that now cuts across his face. He looks sheepish, like he's well aware that what he just said was the most corny thing ever, but he holds Keith's gaze, making sure he knows it's true.

"Me?" Keith rasps, blinking. When Shiro nods, Keith sniffles once, rubs his dry nose against Shiro's shirt, then turns his head to rest his cheek against Shiro's chest.

Shiro grips at Keith's hair, presses a kiss to the top of his head. "You're my family, Keith, and I'm sure the others think of you as family now too. We all have things we miss, and we may not consider this castle in the stars our home the way you do, but that doesn't make you any less a part of our family."

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://borrowedphrases.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/borrowedphrases)


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